Lost then Found:A Dean Ambrose FanFicition

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Calm before the Storm

Dean sat there, twiddling a spaghetti noodle around the points of his fork, starting to feel the slightest twinge of abandonment. Brittany had been acting a little strange ever since she had been discharged from the hospital. She had slept more, laughed less, and hadn't even perked up when Dean did his impression of the chairman of the WWE, Vince McMahon. He felt as if he were on the other side of a plexiglass wall. The more and more he tried to break through or find the answer, the more and more the solution wanted to elude him. She wouldn't even tell him what was wrong, no matter how hard Dean had tried to coax her into confessing. Brittany had not been directly distant, but whenever Dean asked her what was wrong, she would shrug her shoulders and say, "I'm fine." 

When he came upon the door, Dean thumped his head against it, hoping that whatever was about to happen on the other side would end on a positive note. He opened it, being as quiet as a mouse. Brittany was nowhere in sight, which meant that she was in the bedroom. Dean pressed on, hoping that she was alright. 

A creak sounded from the bedroom. When Dean looked into the room, he found Brittany sitting on the edge of the bed, her back turned to the door. She was hunched over, not moving much at all.

"Hey," he calmly greeted as he put his head between hers and her shoulder. "You left me and a pretty amazing meal behind. Why did you leave?"

Brittany let out a little sob, which told Dean that there truly was something wrong. "Look."

She held up an empty pill bottle. Dean read the label, realizing it was the medication that she took for her severe depression. 

"I haven't taken those in almost two months. But ever since I was ambushed on Monday, I've been feeling funny."

"Well," Dean began as he sat the bottle down on the nightstand,"I don't care how long it takes. We're getting to the bottom of this problem."

He lied down, pulling Brittany down as well. She curled up, laying her head directly over his heart. "So why is it happening now?"

She shrugged. "I guess...it's because I feel like I'm losing. Fighting a losing battle in a way. Everyone's like, 'Oh, Brittany! You're doing such a kick-ass job of standing up to Stephanie. She's truly met her match.' It's the other way around, however. I'm losing, Jon. Something bad is going to happen soon. And don't say it's not."

"You're not losing. Nothing bad is going to happen. Even though Monday was my fault, I promise nothing's going to happen. You worry too much." He spoke honestly.

"I have every right to worry as much as I do," Brittany exclaimed. "I have put my job in far greater jeopardy, and now the ones that I care about are being targeted.  I've worked so fucking hard to get to where I am now," she wiped a tear from her cheek. "Why does it feel like it's all disappearing?"

Dean held her tighter, thinking of her as a crumbling cookie. 

"As far as I'm concerned, baby, you have it all."

Brittany pounded his chest with a fist. "That's not the point. Stephanie's making my life more of a living hell than it already is, and no matter how hard I try, I can't stop it. Everyone's tried to, but all have failed. That bitch wants to ruin my life and career. I can't let that happen, Jon. I just...just...can't."

Dean sighed, realizing that he was going to have to use some blunt brutality.

"Well the first thing that you need to do is to not show signs of weakness. And with that attitude, you aren't going to do good at all."

She laughed. It was a dangerous sign.

"It's not that simple, Jon. I can't wear armor all the time."

"No, you are not. You're winning, Brittany."

At least it seems as if I am wearing her down, now.

Dean chuckled, twirling a strand of her hair around his fingers. "You've won every battle that you've ever been in. You're going to win this one, and I don't give a damn what you, or anyone else has to do to make it happen. You're not in this alone."

Right from the start, Dean knew that Brittany had issues. Dean knew that Brittany was not so open about a lot of things, but he tolerated the stubbornness anyhow, knowing that she would let him have a little insight whenever she deemed him worthy. Their relationship was an unusual one.

"You don't have to fight my battles for me, Jon." She hardly ever expected anything out of him, aside from honesty and happiness.

"Sometimes the damsel in distress can't escape by herself, so the prince must ride in on his trusty steed and help to save the day," he said, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"The damsel in distress can save herself. She's done it before."

"The damsel in distress needs to stop being so cranky and let the prince help her out."

Brittany sighed. "Fine. The damsel in distress will agree to disagree."

Dean laughed, glad to see that she had come around at last. Brittany was a hard case, one that would never be totally solved, but Dean didn't mind."That's the spirit."

 In two hours, they were out in the desert listening to country music while sharing a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey. As a faint buzz began, Dean realized that this was the first time that Brittany had drank any alcohol in a year or two. It was weird, but she insisted that she would be okay. Needless to say her blood alcohol stayed under the legal limit. Which was good because Vegas was unusually crowded with patrol cars that night. And even when he ended up vomiting later on, Dean was glad that he had had a good day with Brittany. Apart from Roman, Cesaro, Xavier and both of the Usos, she was the coolest person that he knew. As he wrapped his arms around the porcelain throne, Dean wished that he could have more days like this. Sometimes he hated traveling so much. But at the end of the day, it was all worth it.